Threat

Meanwhile.

Nanning County, Guangfu Ward in the southern city.

Gray walls and broken tiles, muddy streets, wind whipping dust through the air.

This was one of the wards most crowded with refugees, a mix of firewood peddlers, laborers, gamblers, beggars, idle drifters, and various gangs straddling the line between gray and black.

At a street corner stood a crude tea stall, its curtain hanging askew, steam rising thick.

Zhang Qiang sat there, chest bare and arms exposed, his face slick with an oily sheen. One hand gripped a coarse porcelain teacup, the other rested on the back of his chair. He was like a resting tiger, his presence steady and oppressive.

Hot tea swirled with vapor, but there was no leisure in his eyes.

"Gulp—"

He had just taken a sip when he heard light footsteps behind the curtain. Someone ducked in, head low.

It was one of his informants—scrawny, shriveled, with a slick, oily face. He moved softly, leaning in to whisper a few words.

Zhang Qiang's teacup paused. Porcelain clinked against the wooden table with a sharp sound.

His brow slowly furrowed. His gaze turned as sharp as a drawn blade, suddenly fierce. The hidden malice within him surged outward like a tide.

"Bold, huh..."

A cold smirk curled at the corner of his mouth. His voice was low, but it grated like the crunch of bones between a beast's teeth.

"Taking my money to buy a household registration?"

"And the bastard actually dared!"

The last words came through gritted teeth, as if laced with blood.

He rose slowly to his feet, tall and broad. The firewood knife at his waist swayed gently, its iron sheath clinking—a crisp sound that made the tea stall patrons instinctively back away.

His underling, seeing his foul mood, hurriedly said, "That kid just left the city. Said he was going to check out the wasteland allotted to him. I got the details clear—the land's at—"

"Good work!" Zhang Qiang raised a hand and waved, his tone carrying a brash appreciation.

His eyes turned cold. He pointed at two fierce, trusted men beside him: "You, and you. Come with me."

With that, he kicked the bamboo chair aside. The teacup toppled, scalding tea dripping along the table's edge, splashing a wet stain on the ground.

Zhang Qiang strode out of the tea stall in long, heavy steps, his footsteps like drumbeats, his Sha Qi like the wind.

The firewood knife at his waist trembled slightly, as if it too craved the start of a hunt.

Pedestrians on the street scrambled out of the way. Everyone knew "Firewood Gang Zhang Qiang," a man who killed without blinking. No one wanted to cross him.

Meanwhile, Gu Chang'an walked slowly out of the government office, his eyes clear, gazing at the sunlit street.

"This is the first step."

"From now on, I'm no refugee."

At the same time, his system panel changed.

[Name: Gu Chang'an]
[Lifespan: 1 year, 5 months]
[Identity: Farmer (Commoner)]
[Realm: None]
[Physique: 42 (+2/day)]
[Technique: Iron Cutting Saber Technique (Yellow Grade Low Rank, Initial Mastery) +]

Not bad—the daily stat increase had doubled.

With a light heart, Gu Chang'an arrived outside the city.

He stepped onto wasteland buried in weeds. Mud swallowed his ankles, and a faint, damp, rotting smell rose from the depths of the soil.

Looking at the one mu of land before him—overgrown with foxtail grass, wild roses, and patches of hard, yellow earth—the corner of his mouth twitched slightly.

Registering for a household even came with land?

It sounded good, but if it were really that great, why would it fall to a refugee like him?

This so-called "fertile field" was not only far from the city walls and low-lying, but also split in two by a ditch. Every year, he had to pay three hundred and seventy wen in land tax.

Didn't pay?

At best, you'd be conscripted for forced labor;

at worst, you'd be sent to the army or exiled.

"In the end, the moment I got that household registration, I became a beast of burden for Nanning County," he muttered to himself.

He tightened his grip on the coarse-cloth-wrapped firewood knife and said in a low voice, "This land is a dead end. If I don't want to end up a lowly serf, I have to train my saber technique well, then find a status that can exempt me from taxes."

He was about to leave when he suddenly heard movement in the grass not far away.

Crack—crack—

Three figures slowly emerged from the wild grass.

Gu Chang'an's eyes turned icy. The one at the front was a familiar face—Zhang Qiang.

Behind him followed two underlings, both notorious enforcers of the Firewood Gang: Zhang San and Li Si.

The three walked with steady steps, blades still sheathed, but their presence pressed down like wolves locking onto prey.

Seeing this, Gu Chang'an understood—they weren't here for pleasantries.

[Zhang Qiang: Physique 45]

[Zhang San: Physique 35]

[Li Si: Physique 31]

The highest, Zhang Qiang, had a Physique of 45.

But I have the Iron Cutting Saber Technique. If I strike by surprise, maybe...

Zhang Qiang's gaze was sinister, a cold smirk on his lips. "Gu Chang'an, I hear you registered your household today and even got land assigned. You're here to check it out, right?"

Gu Chang'an's lips twitched slightly. His voice was low. "The land's barren, and the taxes can't be waived. To be honest, I'm worried I can't even pay them."

Zhang Qiang spat disdainfully. "Keep pretending. You earn a few hundred coppers a month chopping wood. Where'd you get eight hundred for the household registration?"

"Master Zhang, I saved it up selling firewood every day. You know me—I never slack off."

"Enough bullshit!" Zhang Qiang's face twisted with menace as he stepped forward, nearly pressing against Gu Chang'an. "I think that money came from murder and robbery!"

Li Si grinned, his voice raspy. "The killing intent on you hasn't faded yet. Think we can't see that?"

Gu Chang'an's heart jolted, but his face betrayed nothing. He took a slow step forward and said quietly, "Master Zhang, I'm not that kind of person. I've only got a dozen coppers left on me now. I'll give them all to you."

With that, he pulled a small cloth pouch from his chest and tipped out a handful of copper coins with a clatter.

Zhang San snapped angrily, "You son of a bitch, you think we're beggars?"

Li Si sneered. "Looks down on the Firewood Gang, huh? Master Zhang, this brat's got a hard mouth. Let's take one of his legs first!"

But Zhang Qiang raised a hand, smiling—a smile that only made him colder.

His tone was unhurried, but every word carried murderous intent:

"Gu Chang'an, a man has to be reasonable. You used my membership dues to get your household registration. That debt needs to be settled clearly."

"One thousand coppers per man, three men makes three thousand. Add the eight hundred for registration, and you owe me three thousand eight hundred."

"Of course, we're not unreasonable people. I know you don't have that much now. You can owe it."

"But..." He licked his lips, his eyes turning venomous. "Interest is always due. Three hundred coppers a month. If you don't pay, we'll cut off your fingers, one joint at a time."

Gu Chang'an listened, feeling as if he'd fallen into an ice pit.

"Of course..." Zhang Qiang twisted his neck, and his cleaver scraped half an inch from its sheath with a crack, a flash of cold light. "You can refuse right now. But this barren land stretches ten miles in every direction—even stray dogs don't come here."

"If you die, the beasts will eat you clean in a few days. No one will remember you."

The wind rose around them, grass swaying like snakes, a dead silence pressing in.

Zhang San and Li Si slowly circled Gu Chang'an, like hunters surrounding prey, their eyes full of plunder and contempt.

Gu Chang'an took a deep breath, his face hardening like iron. He lowered his head slowly. "...Fine. I agree."

Zhang Qiang grinned, as if victory was certain, and was about to say, "Smart move,"

But in that instant, Gu Chang'an snapped his head up, his gaze sharp as a blade!

The next second, the saber flew—a thunderclap to the ears!